The League of Grumbly Authority Ladies

Lights up on a London street, vaguely Edwardian looking. A MAN runs on stage. A CONSTABLE runs after him. They halt.

CONSTABLE

Cease your escape, villain! I shall report you to the LEAGUE OF GRUMBLY AUTHORITY LADIES!!!!!!

MAN

Yeah right.

Lightning flashes, thunder. A harried, angular orchestra piece plays as dozens of old, dumpy, nearly square-shaped ladies descend onto the stage. They have wings.

MAN

Oh my god! That's the League of Grumbly Authority Ladies?

CONSTABLE

Aye, it IS. IT IS.

MAN

Look, you should really tell people that they fly. That's actually way more important than "grumbly".

CONSTABLE

I don't need that kind of criticism.

The LADIES have landed and are encircling the MAN.

MAN

Or that they have eyes like glowing coals. And three-inch long fangs that are grey.

CONSTABLE

Please, I worked hard on public speaking, it's a big fear of mine. Don't make me feel badly about the title of--

MAN

And I'm pretty sure that one is 100% gargoyl--

The LADIES pounce on him, tearing him to shreds.

CONSTABLE

Well, my confidence is shot for the week.

BLACKOUT.